


Lines of Communication

by Icka M Chif (mischif)



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arguing, Awkward Flirting, Blanket Permission, Blizzard of '68, Body Language, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Jackrabbit Valentine's Day, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 06:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1256971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischif/pseuds/Icka%20M%20Chif
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <a href="http://citrusmewtwist.tumblr.com/">Citrusmewtwist</a>, for the Jackrabbit Valentine exchange.<br/>They requested: "Jack and Bunny get in a fight about Easter of '68 in front of the other Guardians, and it turns out that it was the Easter of 1768 and that Bunny has held a grudge for 200-250 some odd years." Angst, then fluff preferred. </p><p>Things kind of went... sideways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lines of Communication

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [Bleedinginkandsugar](http://bleedinginkandsugar.tumblr.com/) for the beta, she did a fabulous job of taking me to task. 
> 
> [Nike](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nike/pseuds/Nike) explores more Feral!Jack in [Feral](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1645142).

* * *

“-It’s been over TWO AND A HALF CENTURIES.” Jack erupted, sending Aster backing up a step. “ _Let it go!_ ”

Aster felt his ears droop down across his back in confusion at the abrupt change in mood and body language. 

Gone was the cheerful demeanor as they casually circled each other in gradually decreasing spirals in North’s Workshop, ducking in and out of each other’s personal space without ever quite touching. Instead, Jack’s posture was stiff and sharp, shoulders back to make his skinny frame look broader than he was. His jaw was set in a stubborn defensive line, eyes dark and angry. 

Not for the first time, Aster wished Jack had a tail. With Jack’s habit of lounging in high places, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting victims below, a feline tail would probably suit Jack the best. One that would do that happy little question mark shape, like the end of Jack’s staff. It’d probably be puffed up right now, lashing indignantly. 

“Wha-”

“You know what, **No**.” Jack held up a hand, stopping Aster’s question. He jabbed two fingers in Aster’s direction. “I’m done arguing about it. I messed up. I’m sorry. Mention it again, and I’m just going to walk away.” 

It felt like a betrayal, physical blow against his ribcage. “Bu-” The words, always strange and unfamiliar, stick in his throat. “Jack…” 

“No.” Jack said, then turned and leapt into the air, no doubt vanishing outside, where Aster couldn’t follow into the Arctic ice. 

He turned towards the other Guardians, hoping for some sort of clue or insight as to what just happened, and found them glaring at him. Both North and Sandy had their arms crossed over their chests, Tooth buzzing angrily in the air, her hands on her hips. All three of them gave the air of annoyed predators, waiting for the signal to pounce on their prey. 

Namely, him. 

“The Blizzard of ‘68-?” North rumbled, danger lurking in his tone. “Was not 1968?”

“1768.” Aster growled, annoyed. Why were they focusing on that?! There were more important things to focus on, like what the heck had triggered Jack’s sudden retreat? It wasn’t as if this was a new discussion. Had something happened before they got together tonight that Aster hadn’t heard about? 

“BUNNY!” Tooth snapped, her hands waving in the air. “Seriously?! I knew you could hold a grudge, but _that long_?!” 

“I ain’t holdin’a grudge against him.” Aster growled back. He and Jack had talked about this, worked it out long ago. “Jack didn’t the know date, there were a bunch o’other stuff going on, it was an accident. She’s apples.”

The Blizzard of ‘68 had been a mix up on both their parts that had left a bitter taste in their mouths for centuries. But once they got it all sorted and squared away, Aster didn’t harbour any ill will towards Jack.

Quite the opposite, which had somehow led to this peculiar set of circumstances. 

“Then why do you keep bringing it up?” Tooth demanded, looking like she wanted to hit him over the head. Preferably with something hard. 

“How _else_ am I supposed ta get him _down_ ta chat him _up_?” Aster demanded, angrily pointing to the rafters high above them that Jack had taken to hiding in. 

Up until recently, Jack had never hesitated to get in Aster’s face. It was one of the major reasons Aster liked Jack, he was easy to read, easy for him to understand. Aster was never left wondering why his words didn’t match up with what his body language was broadcasting, like with most humans. North especially. 

And then suddenly that had changed, and Aster didn’t know why. He’d racked his brains, trying to see if he’d some how accidentally insulted Jack. Literally, they’d left on good terms one meeting, the next Jack wouldn’t even look at him. 

Jack’s open body language had vanished, leaving him closed off and hard to read, but only around Aster. Jack didn’t seem to have any difficulty talking to the other Guardians. Aster had tried his damnest to get Jack to talk to him. He’d tried going up to the rafters, he’d tried asking Jack politely from the ground, and it’d gotten him no where. The only time he could get Jack to react properly and banter with him was when he got Jack’s dander up. 

The fastest way to do that was bring up the Blizzard of ‘68. The slightest insinuation and off they went, having a good chinwag. 

Which didn’t solve the problem, but Aster thoroughly enjoyed bantering with Jack. It was always fun, and he loved seeing how animated Jack got, the way his blue eyes sparkled. 

… He may have tried to replicate that colour a time or two. Or eight. Ten, tops. 

Not to mention that when Jack forgot to be polite and got up in Aster’s face, he smelled _amazing_. The crisp cold scent of autumn, pine sap, the clean scent of snow, and something underneath that made Aster long to wrap himself around Jack, burrow his nose against the nape of Jack’s neck, and nuzzle a for a while. 

-Not that he’d ever get a chance if Jack kept _running away_ before Aster could talk to him. 

But even if Jack didn’t feel the same about Aster, Jack Frost one of his closest friends, and there was no way Aster was going to walk away from their semi-antagonistic friendship without a fight. 

“... Chat up?” North’s alarmed voice broke Aster out of his thoughts. “You are _FLIRTING_?!” 

“Well, uh...” Aster looked up to find Tooth with her hand clapped over her mouth, eyes wide and shocked. His heart gave weird double thump as he glanced at Sandy, whose jaw was slack, eyes bugging out, his usually shifting sand for once hovering motionless in midair. 

North was the worst, staring at Aster as if the swordsman had never seen Aster before. 

Aster felt the hairs on the back of his spine raise, bristling defensively. “What?” He snapped, rising to his full height, arms moving to the sides in preparation of fight.

He could deal with insults about his holiday. He could handle insulations because of his appearance. Not about this. Not about what was left of his heart. 

He’d never thought he’d wanted to, not after Pitch massacred all the other Pooka. His friends, his family, his clan, _everyone_ , leaving him and his home a hollow empty wreck. Leaving him both hopeful and bitter. 

Joining the Guardians had helped, but Jack was the one that made Aster want to smile again, make him laugh, make his heart soft again. And he would be **damned** before he was mocked for that. 

“But you are…” North repeated, as if in shock, then waved a hand in Aster’s direction, as if that were explanation enough. “ _Bunny_!”

“What? I can’t find someone ta care about too?” Aster threw an arm out in irritation. “Ya and Tooth have been flirting for centuries, Sandy temporarily killed himself to grant Pitch’s wish because of his crush and I? What? The rabbit doesn’t get to _love_?” 

… Care. He’d meant to say care. 

Shit. 

“Fergit it.” Aster growled, tapping the ground with his foot. He gathered up what tattered remains of his pride he had left and disappeared down the rabbit hole before he could open his gob and say anything more incriminating.

Or humiliating. 

+++

“Rack Off, North.” Aster shouted as he heard the booming sound of a Snow Globe Portal. He didn’t want to talk about it, what had happened at the Pole. He felt nervous, jittery as he mixed his paints. 

Blue, again. It was a good colour, he could turn it into Green, or Purple. There was no reason to think that this was another attempt to match the colour of a certain someone’s eyes that he was resolutely not think about. 

“Um.” A throat cleared behind him. “I’m not North.” 

Aster turned to find Jack standing a few meters behind him, hands holding his staff behind his back, looking nervous and as awkward as Aster felt. 

“Oh… Jack.” Aster stammered, his thoughts grinding to a halt. Oh, bugger. Had Jack heard any of what he'd said? 

“North sent me with a message-?” Jack said, scratching the back of his head nervously. He glanced up at Aster through his lashes for a moment before looking away again, and Aster felt something in him ease a bit. “He said to say he was surprised because you’ve never showed an interest before, not horrified because you’re a Bunny.” 

“I… Oh.” Aster deflated slightly. Well, that was true. The others probably thought he was some sort of sexless neuter. It wasn’t like they had a huge point of reference, considering he was the last living Pooka. He sighed, suddenly feeling sort of defeated. He shook his head. “Thanks.” 

Jack shrugged. "He also said something about you being less likely to throw a boomerang at my head than his." He confessed, shoving his hands in his pockets, posture relaxing slightly.

Aster huffed. "Too right." He agreed, grumbling to himself as he added a bit more white to the paint, lightening it a smidge. North was a good friend, most of the time anyway, but sometimes it took a blow to the head to get things through to him. 

… He might still be a little sore about North picking him up _by the scruff of his neck_ like a kit and throwing him in the sleigh to get to Tooth's Palace. Aster’s tunnels would have definitely been faster. And safer. But that was North, big, loud, and in your face. 

Aster hated having to be louder, just so he could be heard. Especially since hardly anyone was willing to look when there were entire conversations that could be had without saying a word. 

Speaking of silent conversations, Jack gingerly crouching down a few steps away on a rock overlooking the Colour River, his staff just above the water, barely avoiding freezing it. His posture was relaxed, except for the set of his shoulders, which looked like he was bracing for either flight or fight. 

Aster almost wanted to laugh. He finally had Jack within speaking distance, and he didn’t know what to say. If he should say anything now. He stared down at the egg in his hand that he was painting spirals on, overly aware of his heart thumping in his chest. 

“What does you looking like a Bunny have to do with anything?” Jack finally asked, head tilted to the side, looking particularly feline in his confusion. “I mean, you’re the Easter Bunny, right?” 

Not the topic Aster had been expecting, but he’d take it. He set down the egg he’d been painting and picked up a new one, buying time to gather his thoughts. “Ya haven’t met a lot of spirits yet, have ya?”

Jack shrugged, fiddling with the his staff. “Not really. Just the Guardians.”

“Spirits basically falls inta two categories on Earth. Mostly Human, and Godly Beasts.” Aster explained, pausing for a moment to scratch behind his ear with a hindleg. “Guess where I fall in?”

“But…” Jack’s brows came down, confused. 

"Beasts, even mythical beasts who speak, do not walk upright. They don’t wear clothing. Don’t use tools, weapons.” Aster waved his paintbrush. “They do not _create_."

"Humans do." Jack said softly. "Spirits that look human do too. Dwarves, red caps, elves, kobolds. Tooth, Sandy. You do too."

"But m’not human." Aster shook his head. "Never have, never will be." Never wanted to be. 

He wasn’t human with animal attributes, like Tooth, or a minotaur. But he was not a beast either. He was far enough from both that it made forming bonds with others difficult. He was accepted as an acquaintance, certainly. Friend by a few. 

Love, never. 

It had never bothered him much, before a certain winter sprite had gotten in his face and gotten him thinking… things. 

“If Pitch hadn’t wiped out my people, it’d be a Pooka thing.” Aster gestured around the Warren, to the caves that were meant to be Burrows, homes. It wouldn’t be quite so bad, an entire species being the exception, that weird place in the middle, not human, but not entirely beast either. “Instead, it’s just me.”

“Other spirits don’t like that, do they?” Jack said quietly, tapping his staff against the rock. “Back when we were gathering teeth to keep Tooth’s belief up, you said something about the rest of us working together to make sure you got less teeth.” 

“Sometimes others feel the need to ‘put me in my place’.” Aster smiled, showing teeth. “I usually knock ‘em down a peg or two.” 

But it was harder to do when it was the people who were his friends, the ones who he trusted to have his back. It didn’t happen very often, but it still hurt. 

Jack nodded, the two of them lapsing into silence for a while. 

“It’s… not the same, but I’m not very good at being human.” Jack said, as if offering a secret. “Jamie claimed that if I was human, I’d be a ‘Wild Child’, mostly feral. Aside from the talking part.” 

Aster raised an eyebrow, setting down the painted egg and picking up a fresh one, silently encouraging Jack to talk as he drew abstract faces on the egg. For all that he could run at the mouth, Jack didn't often talk about himself.

"I've been on the outside looking in for so long, I thought I'd like it.” Jack said, shoulders curling in. “But I'm not comfortable indoors, away from the sky and trees. Buildings feel claustrophobic and I'm constantly afraid I'm going to break something. Even furniture feels weird.”

Jack did have the habit of perching like a bird on what ever was around, more often found crouching on a tabletop than sitting in a chair. 

Which earned him frequent scoldings from Tooth, North, and Phil, trying to get him to sit ‘properly’. 

Most humans couldn’t see Jack, but animals could, and Aster had witnessed Jack riding on the back of more than one animal. Simply because it was fun, and they didn’t walk through him like humans did. After 300 years of only being able to interact with animals, it made sense that he’d pick up their non-verbal cues. 

“I’m not a big fan of clothing, either.” Jack wiggled his toes, making Aster smile a little bit. He’d frequently seen Jack pick stuff up with his toes, using them like fingers. "I mean, pockets are good, but I'd rather go without. I tried doing that once, a couple of centuries ago, but there are bad words for guys who are naked and want to play with kids."

Aster huffed with laughter, releasing the egg he was playing with and picking up another. His fingers moved without much input from his brain, quickly drawing out the Pookan characters for ‘laughter’ and ‘joy’ on it. Aster set the egg down, nudging it towards Jack. The egg waddled up, stopping to stare up at Jack, who looked down at it, then smiled, picking up the egg. 

“Well, there’s not much furniture in the Warren.” Aster drawled, pretending to ignore watching Jack’s long pale fingers trace the shape of the characters on the egg’s smooth surface as he picked up another one to doodle on. “And you’re more than welcome ta run around starkers if ya want.” 

He mentally rewound that statement in his head and grimaced, realising how that sounded. “I mean… Uh…” He stammered, ears flattening against his skull. He’d meant if Jack was more comfortable that way, the Warren was a safe place to run around without clothing because of the lack of observers and sharp prickly things, not to make a pass at him.

Not that Aster would _mind_ if Jack ran around nude….

Jack laughed, his head tilting back and baring his neck in his mirth, distracting Aster from his thoughts. “I’ll remember that.” He promised, expression and voice warm as he looked over at Aster. 

Aster smiled and ducked his head, grateful he couldn’t blush frost like Jack did. 

“Hey, um.” Jack ran a hand through his hair, holding onto the back of his neck. “Sorry about blowing up at you earlier.” 

“Naw, don’t worry ‘bout it.” Aster waved it off. “The whole blizzard thing’s water under the bridge-”

“No, it’s…” Jack sighed. “I _really_ like arguing with you, it’s fun. It's just… We always argue about the Blizzard lately. Can't we find something else to fight over? Mix it up a bit?"

"Reckon so." Aster said, a feeling of warm fondness pooling in his chest. He enjoyed their arguments too. They'd have to figure out something else to debate. Which would mean they’d need to see more of each other, to constantly find new things to argue about. "I couldn't think of another way ta get ya ta talk ta me." He tried to keep the hurt out of his voice at that, but didn’t think he quite succeeded.

"I know." Jack ducked his head as he nervously tapped his staff against the rock he was perched on. "I was in the rafters when you were talking with the other Guardians. I heard everything."

Aster fumbled with the egg he'd been holding, accidentally dropping both it and the paintbrush, which hit the rocks with a clatter before falling into the river with a plop. He bit back a nervous whine in the back of his throat, his heart going doubletime, legs twitching with the conflicting urges to run and stay. Every hair feeling as if it were on edge, he turned to look at Jack, fearful of the winter spirit’s reaction. 

Jack wasn’t looking at him, his attention on the water below. Even without those blue eyes on him, Aster felt frozen to the spot, as if pinned in place. His hindbrain screamed danger alarms, but he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.

“The thing is… You’re really good at reading me. Scarily good.” Jack said, shoulders curled in as if to protect himself, directing the words towards the water. “Sometimes it’s like you already know what’s going on in my head before I do. So when I realised that I like you… romantically, I kind of panicked. Figured the best way to keep you from figuring out and losing your friendship was to keep out of sight, so my body language wouldn’t give it away.” 

“Worried I’d done somethin’ ta scare ya away.” Aster admitted softly, relaxing a fraction, but still tense. He didn’t think he’d made his interest known, hiding it was almost second nature now.

And it wasn’t as if Jack had known him any other way other than besotted. Jack had caught Aster’s attention with the Blizzard of 1768. But he’d fallen hard for Jack when he’d looked up from his shrunken diminutive size and realised that Jack Frost, whom he’d done nothing but insult and belittle, had not only kept belief in the Guardians alive, but belief in Aster in particular. 

He’d done his best to hide it, treasuring the friendship between them, as oddly antagonistic as it sometimes was. 

Jack turned his head slightly to look at Aster, radiating tentative hope. As if Jack was afraid Aster would turn him away, even after his own confession, and hearing Aster say it. Aster smiled back, just a shy small quirk of his lips. “You’re a braver person than I, Frostbite.” Aster drawled. 

He got a soft laugh in return, as Jack rubbed the back of his neck again, his nervousness slowly being replaced by confidence. “Yeah, well. It’s easier to do so when you’ve already heard the guy you like likes you back.” He confessed, just a hint of his usually cheeky grin slipping out.

True. Aster tilted his head to the side, held his hand out towards Jack in invitation. Jack grinned at him, eyes sparkling in happiness as he, shifting his staff to his other hand to take Aster’s fingers in his. Jack was cool to the touch, but not uncomfortably so. 

“I’m probably gonna mess this up at some point.” Aster warned as he tugged Jack closer, to sit next to him. “I don’t know how humans court.”

“That’s okay.” Jack said, ignoring Aster’s prompting and settling himself in between Aster’s legs, sitting down so his back was pressed to Aster’s front. “I’m not entirely sure how humans do it either.” 

Not quite a lie, but not entire truth either. Aster studied Jack’s face as the winter sprite tilted his head to rub his cheekbones against the fur of Aster's shoulder, cat-like. Probably a lack of interest in courting like a human, Aster concluded. 

If he was brutally honest, they’d probably been courting this whole time. They’d both been showing off while battling Pitch and his Nightmares, displaying their fighting talents and what good protectors they were. And while gathering teeth, trying to prove to the other that they’d be a good provider. 

Doubly so for Aster, when he showed off his Warren. He’d never let anyone see it, not after the massacre. But after visiting North’s Workshop and Tooth’s Palace, he’d had to show them, had to show _Jack_ his home. 

His home, that hopefully Jack would be spending a lot more time at in the future. 

Aster sat down, Jack’s legs pressed against the inside of his, wrapping his arms around Jack’s narrow chest, feeling the thump of Jack’s fast heartbeat under Aster’s hand. He curled himself around Jack, unable to hold back the pleased purr at how nicely Jack fit against him.

He rubbed the bottom of his chin against the top of Jack’s head, scent marking him, then leaned down, pressing his nose against the underside of Jack’s ear, at the edge of the jaw and sniffed. 

The crisp cold scent of autumn, pine sap, the clean scent of snow, and something underneath that was not quite human, very male, and uniquely Jack. 

Aster sighed happily, nuzzling Jack’s neck, tongue slipping out for just the tiniests of tastes. Jack made a contented sound, raising an arm to stroke Aster’s cheek, fingers burrowing into the thick fur of his neck. “This alright?” Aster asked, lips brushing the soft smooth skin at Jack’s neck. 

“Mmmm.” Jack rumbled in his throat, tilting his head to the side to bare more skin for Aster to taste, Aster catching the glimpse of a pleased feline smile. “I’ll give you another two and a half centuries to stop.” 

-fin-


End file.
